Deadly Weapons and Slippery Spooks
by Sage and Snape
Summary: AU-Preview:Harm couldn’t talk about that, couldn’t talk about this, not now, not without showing emotion that he definitely didn’t want written on his face...Summary:Two people, one tied up in a murder and international incident.What loyalties remain?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Not mine, obviously, except Sean, he's mine!

Set: Season 4, doesn't matter, but that was the last good season to me, so that's my preference.

*******

LCDR Harmon Rabb, Jr. was quite the successful JAG lawyer, know for his litigation skills, investigations skills, and heroism. What he was not known for, however, was being on time. Usually, his lack of timeliness went unnoticed by everyone save one marine. Today was not one of those days.

He slunk into the bullpen, making a b-line for his office, but was intercepted in a way no pilot ever wants to be intercepted. Damn.

"Commander, the Admiral wants to see you ASAP."

With a bit of a forced smile, Harm nodded at the yeoman and redirected his route, looking at his watch.

He barely knocked and pushed open the door before he was greeted by a stalwart, "Have a seat, Mr. Rabb," from his CO, without so much as looking up from the file he was reading. A file which had Chegwidden with a raised eyebrow and one of those unimpressed looks that made Harm wince on the inside. He was about to be given a big case, and he was late.

Taking a seat and putting his briefcase next to his leg, Harm did his best to not show too much interest or too much guilt.

Clearing his throat in a way that made Harm look, the Admiral sat back and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Interesting case file crossed my desk this morning, after apparently having crossed the desk of the CNO and the SecNav…" He trailed off.

Harm did not appreciate the dramatic effect. If this was about his last investigation-.

"For some reason, they think this requires some of my personal attention."

Being a bit bold and curiosity killing him, Harm asked, "What's this about, Admiral."

If this was about him, he'd rather get it over with ASAP and move on with his day, which was shaping out to be not such a good day.

Frowning and pushing his lips out a bit, the Admiral slid the case file across to Harm, who immediately reached for it, but his hand was halted by the Admiral's next words.

"Wasn't aware that you had a brother, Commander, a younger brother also in the Navy."

And there went all hopes at resurrecting the day. Harm blinked and then cleared his throat.

"You never asked, sir, and it never came up."

"Well it's coming up now," the Admiral growled with a huff.

Declining an immediate answer to that, Harm opened the file and his eyes immediately went wide and white.

"A murder charge?"

Now this was both surprising and not surprising at the same time. His younger brother had not taken after him and their father. His younger brother had been or was (Harm wasn't sure) a SEAL, and had then gotten into God knows what. Last Harm had heard, his brother had been stateside. They didn't talk much to say the least. There wasn't that much in common between them. Harm had always resented the fact that Sean accepted their step-father. The last time they'd talked consistently had been when they were both in the Academy together – then, they were only there for two years at the same time.

Other than that the most they'd talked had been after his crash and after he'd come back from Russia. Both clear times when you'd speak to your brother, close or not.

Chegwidden extracted him from his thoughts, making him lift his eyes from the file he'd been staring at.

"Your brother capable of murder," he man asked, with that look in his eyes. The hawk-like look where he tilted his head back and gave you a look that could burn.

Eyebrows going up, Harm pursed his lips and then looked to the side a bit, "My brother's been capable of killing someone since we were kids, sir."

"What exactly is that supposed to mean?"

*******

(Flashback)

It had seemed like a good idea at the time. But like most things he'd thought were good ideas during his teenaged years, this hadn't quite panned out the way he'd thought. Just like when he'd gone over looking for his dad two years ago at age sixteen…

Were he not currently a bit drunk, Harm Rabb, Jr. might have had a fighting chance against the huge man looking straight at him holding a pool cue. Apparently, this guy wasn't so keen on losing two-hundred dollars to two snot-nosed kids. That pool cue was looking like it was going to his head. In fact, it was whizzing at him as he thought this.

Until his brother stepped in front of him. Harm closed his eyes hazily.

"CRACK"

For a moment, Harm thought Sean was going to barrel backwards into him, until he felt a bit of pool cue ricochet off his head and opened his eyes again.

The benefits of having a brother who was obsessed – OBSESSED – with Martial Arts. Sean had put up some block, a rising block he thought, and the pool cue had split right in half across his raised forearm, which was now-.

OUCH! He thought.

-pulling back as his brother punched the guy right in his xiphisternal junction. How did Harm know that's what that place was called on someone's sternum? Well he'd done Karate with his brother for awhile and that's how he knew.

What did a man look like when his lungs had been paralyzed by a blow, paralyzed by a blow from a 6-foot-2 sixteen year old, to the solar plexus? Oh he fell and he fell hard.

Harm stepped to the side.

"Fuck's sake, Harm, do something here!"

Oh right, he was supposed to fight now, wasn't he. The guy on the ground had friends. Apparently he'd one shot too many celebrating his last hoorah with his brother. Yup, that must be it. Damn! Did his brother just crack that guy's nose nearly off his face?

So Harm fought and his fists hurt. A LOT. By the time the police arrived, it had escalated to a full-out bar brawl, his sixteen year old brother having taken out quite a few guys. The sorts of guys who had lots of friends. In fact, his brother had sent guys flying through the air. It kinda made Harm proud. Little Seany! It helped that Little Seany was a National Champion in Karate…who had spent two summers in Japan training.

It was a proud moment until they'd nearly gotten arrested. Harm wasn't so sure how they weren't getting arrested. Sean was sober, kinda, so he'd have to ask him later.

(End Flashback)

*****

Harm blinked and looked back at Chegwidden. Who was still looking at his expectantly.

"He is a deadly weapon, sir, to put it simply. Trained in I have no idea how many Martial Arts by now. Been doing it since he was four, used to wake up to train before school, would go right to the gym after school, and spend at least eight hours on each weekend day. National and international titles, repeatedly." Harm trailed off.

"Forgive me if I'm not that impressed."

Harm sighed, "How many midshipmen have you ever heard of who were told to only give it 50%? It got to the point where Sean got ordered to give it 50% in hand to hand. He was laying people up left and right. Overheard one of the CDRs talking about it once while I was hitting the bag for boxing, made comment of the fact with his IQ and his physical abilities it was damn good he was on our side because he could be a killing machine."

"Well, looks like they've got their wish."

What could Harm possibly say to that. Nothing. Just a "Yes, sir," and wait to see how Chegwidden would proceed. He knew one thing, he was going to be involved. Which reminded him.

"You said something about the CNO?"

"Wants me to check this out, God knows why. I was hoping you could shed some insight being that he's your brother."

All Harm could think about was whether his brother was capable of killing someone, an innocent someone. He knew his brother had killed people with his bare hands. What he didn't know is if he could kill someone on a-.

What had his brother been doing on an aircraft carrier?

******

(Flashback)

Keeter ran into their room, nearly running into his best friend while he was at it.

"Harm! You aren't going to believe it. It's all over the place. EVERYONE'S talking about it," he exclaimed breathlessly.

Turning around, Harm was confronted with a rather gleeful Keeter.

"Huh?"

"Your brother, right, Sean-o. Your little brother, plebe, yeah. Well YOUR brother just EMBARASSED LCDR Shides in hand to hand! Sent him FLYING!"

Which Keeter illustrated with a wave of his hand, eyes wide.

"What?!?" Harm said, jaw dropping open. "Sean did what?"

Keeter couldn't help it, he laughed like an idiot. "Shides, he asked for a volunteer to demonstrate, y'know, some sort of block and throw, basic stuff. Well your brother volunteers, asks if he's allowed to block, so Shides gets all in his face. Anyway, tells him he's allowed to do whatever he can do." Keeter stopped to take a breath and then continued, "So Sean throws a punch just like Shides asked, and Shides goes to throw him to the mat and it DOESN'T WORK. Then it's all hit, block, counter, hit, block, counter, everyone saying Shides is all red in the face that his demonstration went all to crap and he's trying to get it back and take down your brother. Next thing, Sean just makes him AIRBORN! Takes him to the mat, holds him by the throat and just," Keeter held up a little space between two fingers, "stopped before hitting him with his elbow right in the head!"

Harm was speechless. That wasn't surprising of his brother, but it definitely probably wasn't a smart move. Sean was probably going to be marching watches until Christmas. Sean wasn't an egotistical kid, but he didn't sell himself short either. It would have been smarter to avoid volunteering altogether. Not like any Rabb ever backed down from a challenge or opportunity.

Keeter didn't wait for Harm to respond, "He's, like, going to be the most popular Plebe ever, even if he's going to be marching and marching and marching."

"Don't think it's going to bother him," Harm muttered, "I've a feeling he could march and do up/downs all damn day with a smile…they'd probably get tired of yelling before he got tired of doing."

His brother was used to hours upon hours of physical exertion. During their free-time for his entire life, all he could remember Sean doing was training and reading. That was all the kid EVER did. He'd been doing one-handed push-ups for as many years as Harm could remember. It'd be more of a punishment for them to force his brother to sleep or something. He rolled his eyes at the thought.

(End flashback)

So, what do you think so far?

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	2. Chapter 2 Evasive Manuevers

Chapter 2

Sean Rabb was rarely in any situations where he felt that many things were outside of his control. He was not used to sitting and waiting. Sean was the man who made others sit and wait. Following a quiet childhood where he'd grown up idolizing his older brother and being taken to various martial arts lessons from his step-father, Sean had entered the Naval Academy to begin his career as an officer – hopefully using his skills to become a SEAL.

He'd been a bookish kid, the sort that had he not the huge body to prove it, no one would have ever believed him to be a champion in sparring and mixed martial artist. In fact, when he hadn't been training in his youth, he'd been reading existentialist philosophy, often in the original German.

The youngest Rabb boy had been very unlike his cocky brother growing up. Instead of daring and ego, Sean was quiet, calculating, and very intelligent.

His combination of hand to hand training and sponge-like intelligence, had led to quite the decision in his career plan at the Naval Academy. He'd always wanted to be a SEAL, to put his training to use on a real foe, but there was quite a movement of advisors courting him for Naval Intelligence.

Now here he was, sitting and waiting, charged with murder. The hazel eyed man was puzzled by this on some level, because he was trained to kill. Trained to kill in close quarters, not like some sniper hundreds of yards away. And Sean had killed. Sean was good at it. The irony had not escaped him, but apparently this was not a killing than the U.S. Navy wanted. Hence the charges.

And those pesky battery charges against the MPs who had tried to apprehend him, if it could be called apprehending considering there aren't many places to go to get away when you are on a carrier. Apparently the Navy hadn't taken kindly to him putting a serious hurting on four of them either.

A thought which made the man smile just a little bit and huff with a hint of a chuckle as he leaned back in his chair. What was taking them so long! No, he wasn't one with a lot of patience for sitting and waiting – it was never asked of him.

Finally, the door opened, and he was about to make some comment to the effect of how LONG it took when instead he stood up suddenly, coming to attention.

While he didn't move, his eyes certainly trained on who had just entered the room. An Admiral. Seriously? Huh, perhaps this was turning a bit more interesting than he'd expected.

And….Harmony. Big Brother coming to save Little Brother and bringing the big guns with too. How like his cowboy brother.

The way he was being eyeballed was surprisingly not unsettling. What did draw his immediate attention was what was above the Admiral's ribbons. A fellow SEAL. He could eyeball Sean all he wanted then.

"At ease."

Sean relaxed, as much as he ever relaxed during an op, which was what he still considered this. He turned his eyes to his brother briefly, who was looking at him as if he definitely thought he was guilty. Well, there wasn't much Sean could do about that, there were witnesses, and he was sure the files said such.

"I believe you two know each other," the Admiral cut in to his personal thoughts, as if giving them permission to do whatever it was two brothers did.

"Yes, sir," he said, going to reach his hand out to Harm just as Harm did the same. Like robots they clasped hands and then clapped each other on the shoulder. It wasn't a warm greeting, nor was it particularly cold. More hesitant than anything, especially on Harm's part.

"How are you doing, Sean-o."

"Fine you?" At least this was one of those crossing points in their life where they held the same rank, because being two years in longer than him, Harm usually held that position of glory that dictated protocols Sean thought should not be between two brothers. As they'd found out when they were at the Academy together. "Nice of you to come to keep me company."

Sean could see that almost unseated Harm, his strange sense of calm despite his charges. Sean had absolutely nothing to worry about, but Harm didn't know that and neither did his Admiral.

Speaking of.

"We are not here to keep you company, Mr. Rabb!"

"No, sir, of course not." Little did they know. And now would likely be the time where he should lapse into two word answers, or just pull out his mental ritual for interrogations. Though, he didn't think either would take kindly to him whipping out name, rank, social security number.

Sean had made one phone call and one phone call only and it had NOT been to his lawyer big brother, which would have made sense for one facing murder charges, and this was why he had not been expecting his legal representation to be the ones who were stepping through the door earlier.

"We don't have time to fool around here, Commander, so we'll need your side of the story."

Without any hint of sarcasm, he said, "What story, sir," in a completely even tone.

Harm made a growl-like noise just under his breath, and gave Sean both a pleading and annoyed look at the same time.

"Is that a joke?" Admiral - Sean looked at his name - Chegwidden, asked him.

"No, sir."

"You DO know why you're here?"

Sean nodded, "Yes, sir."

"Then you'd best start talking, Mister."

Maybe while name, rank, and social was not going to get him in anybody's graces, it might have made the man less pissed off at him.

Eying the tape recorder, Sean looked forward and kept his mouth plastered shut. He wasn't going to say anything anyway, but he definitely wasn't saying it with a tape recorder on.

Before Chegwidden could give him another verbal slap in the face or get in his face and yell, drowning him in sprays of saliva, Harm interjected. It was a good tactic, trying to work the trusting, understanding brother angle.

"Sean, we can't help you if you don't tell us the truth. This is a murder charge…"

Sean turned and looked at Harm, raising an eyebrow, "What murder?"

Harm's lips pursed so fast, barely holding in a long trail of brotherly exasperation that would have come out if Chegwidden wasn't there, Sean was sure. And, then he had a very agitated Admiral leaning across the table into his face.

"You are pissing on the wrong tree, Commander. The murder you committed with two eye witnesses."

"Sir, I don't know what you are talking about."

Sean though Chegwidden's head was just going to burst open. Harm frowned and was the first to come up with a valid theory for his evasiveness. At least his brother still knew thing or two about him.

"Were you under orders?"

Sean blinked. Did he REALLY think Sean was going to answer that question? You didn't just sell out where you got your orders from and that's exactly where that line of questioning would take them. It was all need to know and there wasn't one small little piece of it that they needed to know, despite their best intentions of being there to save him from a 'murder' he obviously committed. There was no defense here, he'd done it. It was the circumstances which just were not privy to anyone, even a very angry two-star.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Harm."

"YOU'D BETTER START KNOWING SOMETHING, SON, BECAUSE IF YOU WERE UNDER ORDERS-."

And the man was obviously to angry to even finish his sentence, instead he just kept his beady eyes four inches from Sean's, glaring and huffing in his face.

Setting his jaw and speaking in a very even tone, he answered, "You were a SEAL too, sir?"

Answer the question with a question, but his question had been an answer. Any SEAL would know. There were definite vows of silence and even as an Admiral, Chegwidden should respect that.

If looks could have killed, Sean would have dropped dead, that he was certain of. Chegwidden was growling, making that dangerous rumbling noise that showed his comprehension of what Sean had said but also the fact that he didn't like it one bit.

Things were going downhill fast and he was going to have to start just sitting here getting yelled and glared at spouting nothing but name, rank, and social. If he said anything more he'd be saying too much or toeing that insubordination line a bit too much. Really, he likely already had, but he really wasn't concerned about that. There were bigger things going on.

They were saved by the door opening again, which turned the angry Admiral to yell at whomever dared to interrupt. It also had Sean up and out of his seat again, but this time with no trace of coming to attention. Finally.

Scoffing, the hazel eyed Rabb said, "What took you so long, the lawyers got here before you did."

He looked at his watch and then at the man who'd entered, "Do you have my things, we're low on time?"

With that, the first thing that went flying at Sean was a cell phone.

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	3. Chapter 3 Pissing Contests

Admiral Chegwidden was not a happy man, the times where he was asked to personally see to something usually ended up being things which could either give the Navy spectacular PR, or career-ending PR. His streak of luck was bound to run out at some point, because there was only so much hot-shot lawyering and just plain hot-shotting incidentally done by one particular lawyer that one JAG could come up with.

The trip to Naples was not one he'd wanted to take, but of course this had to have taken place on a carrier. It couldn't have happened on a base stateside.

From what he'd been able to glean from LCDR Rabb, the younger Rabb had the boy-next-door persona covering a deadly interior. Rabb touted his brother's IQ, which really didn't mean a thing to Chegwidden. Not that it had been easy to get Rabb to talk about his brother. Either because he didn't feel he could protect him giving up all this information or he just plain had his own concerns about his brother.

On the simplest levels all Chegwidden could think was that there was not room in one Navy for two Rabbs, and there definitely wasn't room in his professional life for two Rabbs. He had enough of one cocky, albeit talented, gun-shooting-in-a-courtroom man. He didn't need a cocky, albeit talented, neck-snapper-on-a-carrier SEAL. That was if this younger Rabb was anything like the older Rabb.

Chegwidden was steeled for an interview that was not going to be pleasant. The information they'd been sent had it very cut and dry. LCDR S. Rabb had unceremoniously been caught slamming a LT up against a wall on one of the more less-traveled areas of the ship, at which time the two witnesses tried to get him to stop, the LCDR had snapped the LT's neck like a ragdoll. The two witnesses had been gotten attacked and injured in the attempt to contain Rabb, while another went to get (much needed) reinforcements. They caught up to Rabb who'd dispensed the other two and attempted to subdue him, four of them getting severely injured as well.

Exactly why this case merited his attention was beyond the Admiral, but his SEAL sense told him that there was something more, something much more, going on.

So when he'd opened the door to the interview room, he'd been ready to show exactly why he'd gotten to where he was. The first thing that struck him was the stark resemblance between Rabb and Rabb. In fact, they could nearly be mistaken for twins. Same height, same build, same hair, same facial features. The biggest difference the Admiral noticed right off was that Sean Rabb was a bit larger on the top than the lawyering Rabb – probably from the training regimen his LCDR had described to him as his brother's usual routine. One thing was for certain, he was built.

Continuing to eyeball this other Rabb, he noted that he didn't stand in the way most guilty sailors tended towards. Usually there was the set jaw, the near grinding of the teeth, the tightness in the hands, and the LCDR had none of that. Not one exhibition of one tense muscle in his body, even standing at attention. Intriguing enough. Either the kid was that sure of himself, that comfortable in his own skin, that stupid to not get the severity of this, or was plain not worried.

If he was not worried, Chegwidden wanted to know why. Unless he was insane or had an incredible self-defense angle there was no saving this.

"At ease."

He watched the rather aloof greeting between the brothers and sat down, the other two following suit. Until that asinine comment about company. They weren't here to keep him COMPANY. What was it with Rabbs and sarcasm?

Just like you would see from a member of any special ops team, Rabb even sat at attention. In fact, he was posturing this more like an interrogation than an interview, which is exactly the way he was responding to it.

There was more to this. The last time he'd an incident involving negligent death that he'd had to talk to SEALs, he'd experienced this same stone-walling. What had turned up there? They were covering for orders. Last time it had been from a General who was helping smugglers import drugs, and Chegwidden couldn't help but wonder what it was this time.

******

Harm felt a familiar pang of familial obligation when his blue eyes fell onto his younger brother; a pang right between his heart and his stomach. The pang was also because he wasn't much seeing a way out of this, but it still just didn't sit right with him. Hadn't he himself been accused of a murder that he hadn't committed? Was it too much to ask that his brother also fall into that same category, and were that true how was he supposed to prove that? Harm had been given help, special help, and Harm couldn't offer that to his brother.

Reading Sean's hazel eyes, Harm could tell his brother was wondering just why there was a two star staring him down, but it was brother's privilege; he doubted the Admiral could read it.

And then it started. Harm fought the desire to sigh and put his fingers to the bridge of his nose. Why couldn't he just be alone in the room with his brother. Sean obviously had not learned that even if (and that was a big if) you were right, being right did not make you right in the face of a senior officer. Sean was ruled by logic, which Harm knew, but the Navy was not ruled by logic, but by protocol. Not that Harm was always the best at either; he still felt he knew when it was best to not go pissing on someone's shoe.

It didn't take long to convince Harm that his brother was acting on orders. Why else would he not talk? And if he was acting on orders, why was he alone? Whose orders was he under? Knowing that his brother wouldn't answer those questions, Harm let Chegwidden unleash his unhappiness while he turned his thoughts inward, trying to put together the pieces of the puzzle.

When the telling piece of the puzzle walked right through the door. You had to be kidding.

"Webb?" He could not force some shock or lack of friendliness from his tone.

****

Clayton Webb did not like when his operations went south. What he liked even less was when someone else's operation went south, and he was tagged along for the ride. Clay had pride and ego, and he did not like being subjected to anyone else's pride and ego…let along two, count them, TWO, LCDR Rabbs.

Why, oh why.

And of course, Rabb #1, younger or not he'd known this particular Rabb first, had some sort of Rabb-ish, snide comment to make as if he was some glorified Naval lackey. Took him so long. He was SUPPOSED to get here after Chegwidden and Rabb #2. He fought the desire to chuck the cell phone at Sean Rabb's head and instead lobbed it at him with a withering glare.

"Rabb…Admiral…" Then he looked at Harm and put out another saccharine, "Rabb."

The room would full of noise but silent, unless you counted the flurry of noise Rabb #1 was making standing up, going for the bag in Clay's hand, and checking his missed calls with numerous 'beep' 'beep' 'beep' of button pushing on the cell.

Ignoring, for the most part, the questioning looks on the faces of the JAG crew, Webb plowed onward into business.

"I take it you need back on that carrier?"

Sean scoffed, "I'd say that was an understatement, Webb. I needed back on that carrier a good eight hours ago."

Webb forced one of those nasty CIA smiles onto his face, "Well it wouldn't have been this long if I wasn't waiting for your legal representation to get here first."

As if on cue, Sean eyeballed his brother and then looked back at his phone before making the mistake of eyeballing Chegwidden. They definitely didn't work with Rabb because he was stupid. On the contrary, Webb was constantly reminded of exactly how smart annoying Mr. Rabb #1 was in reality.

"WAITING FOR US TO GET HERE!" Chegwidden finally tore into him. "What exactly is this about Webb."

Webb took his liberties, "Well if he didn't tell you that, Admiral, what exactly makes you think I am going to tell you that?"

There he went up on his high horse. Chegwidden's arms crossed and his shoulders went back, his chin up as he made an exaggerated 'oohhhh' with his open mouth, nothing coming out. Webb fought back his smile. Oh to bait, to bait.

"Because he's not going anywhere."

Webb caught Sean watching the interchange, unbuttoning and tossing the shirt he was wearing on the floor. Webb kicked the bag over to him and looked back at Chegwidden.

"Oh he's going somewhere, sir."

"Under who's authority?"

Well wasn't this just too much fun? Webb crossed his arms and opened his mouth to reply, but was silenced by the ringing of Rabb's satellite phone.

******

Sean caught the phone and wisely allowed Webb to take on the two-star. Sean would take a big 'no thanks' to continuing to deal with that head on. Instead he shot his brother a furtive look, whose slightly parted lips were very telling. Harm was cowed. Harm didn't get cowed. And despite everything, Harm was who Sean had always relied on for advice, not that he often needed it. It was a situation like this that made him remember exactly what having an older brother around was like.

It also reminded him about learning to take a pass on opening his mouth. Let someone else draw the growling, gnashing two-star away from him. Good riddance.

(Flashback)

Sean's running shoes hit the wet pavement in a very predictable cadence, and other than that the only sound was not from his breathing but from him growling in frustration. He'd made it once around his usual path already, but had no plans for stopping soon. He had no running partners because no Plebe in their right mind ran for, gasp, fun. Or rather, ran during non-obligatory-running times.

In comparison to Martial Arts study in the remote areas of Japan, this whole Academy thing wasn't really THAT bad, even after his incomparably bad day the day before.

He was torn out of his introspection by the sound of fast approaching footfalls, and falling into step next to him was Harm. They ran in silence for a good few minutes before Harm broke the silence.

"What's got you all grumbles?"

Sean hadn't realized that he'd been gnashing his teeth and making a slight growling sound until then. At least hadn't consciously realized. He gave his brother an upturned eyebrow and cocked his head to the side. Seriously, if Harm was here to pester him, Harm could run right by or rather, Sean could blow him away at a sprint and not deal with him.

"You aren't still angry about that last week?" Harm asked with a cocky grin.

Scoffing, Sean repeated his look at his brother.

"So you are?"

And repeated again. What younger brother was seriously going to be completely fine with ritualistic upper-class torment from their own brother? Not only that but Harm had sought him out just to do it and that was what bothered him. Him and his loud-mouthed roommate and friend, Keeter. Sean wanted to tell Harm that he could shove it up his ass before Sean shoved him down on the ground, that was Sean's exact idea of the up/down he'd show his brother, but his luck it would be one of those times when Harm would retaliate with his new-found upper-class power over his Plebe brother.

Harm had never been the fastest to take a hint, and he was really picking the wrong time considering Shides had given it to him yesterday.

Finally Harm sighed and sighed dramatically. "I'm sorry," another few footfalls, "I'm not here to screw with you, Sean…Just brother to brother."

"You want to be my brother now, sir." Sure, Sean wasn't going to make it quite that easy. "And if you want to talk, I'm interval training, so when this watch beeps, I'm sprinting the next mile….sir."

Harm didn't wait for the beep though, he just took off, and without another large growl, Sean took off after him. Would it be so much to let his big brother have his delusions that he could out-sprint him, even if he'd gotten a head-start and cheated? Sean's feet lithely sprung off the ground, and he caught up to Harm, pushing him to go just a bit faster, but not overtaking him. He certainly could have.

Another beep signaled the mile and instantaneously Harm plodded back down to a modest…well a modest something that Harm probably called a 'run' but Sean called a 'jog'. He slowed so much that Sean really had to put on the brakes.

After getting his breath, Harm kept right on with an eyeroll as if nothing had interrupted them, "Cut it out…What's bugging you."

"Like you don't know, everyone knows…Although I have to admit, it's reduced the amount of 'for the heck of it' Plebe torment I've had to deal with unless its from my company commanders."

Grinning just a bit, Harm said, "So okay, I heard. Only heard the glory, not the fall from it, though. Fill me in."

"Y'know, Harm, I just don't get it. Nobody, and I mean nobody, wants to volunteer to do this demonstration, so I do. I'm not afraid or intimidated – no reason to be. I ask if it's okay to counter or block, so I understand what this demonstration is supposed to be. Besides getting an earful, Shides tells me that I am 'allowed to do whatever I can do'-."

Sean was forced to paused when Harm snorted in amusement rather loudly. Sean rolled his eyes and did as well, because he knew that his brother was telling him that he knew EXACTLY what Sean could do. See, not Sean's fault he could actually 'do' when most only 'thought they could do'.

"So, right, he gave me permission. Told me to even. And I do, and what happens?"

Harm bit back his laugh and Sean could tell, "You are going to be marching until Christmas? Or some other horrid discipline?"

"Not quite, but you've the right idea."

"What exactly are you bothered by, you willfully submit yourself to heinous training anyway you idiot? What's a bit more? I mean, Sean, you run, do weighted lunges, one-handed pushups of your own volition. You're nuts anyway."

"How exactly do you do what you're told to do and get in trouble, Harm?" He asked, redirecting his brother's point. So what if Sean could take whatever was thrown at him. That wasn't the point.

"Listen up, Sean-o, the Academy isn't governed by logic. It doesn't have to make sense, most of the times it doesn't. It just is. And by extension, just so we don't have this conversation again, the Navy isn't governed by logic either."

Rolling his eyes, Sean didn't bother to respond.

"Anyway, next time best to keep your mouth shut and not volunteer for anything. Oh, and I thought this was common sense, but don't make the instructors look bad. They don't like that." Harm said, putting a finger up to his lips and going 'shhhh' as if that last part was a big secret.

And Sean laughed, shaking his head.

"Thanks, Harm."

"Hey, no problem."

(End Flashback)

Sean was jolted out of his thoughts by his cell phone ringing. Flipping it open, he looked between the pissing contest of Webb and the Admiral. It looked like Chegwidden was winning. This was why he was in the Navy and not the CIA.

"Rabb," He greeted.

Really, he should have turned the volume down on the phone. He blinked and pulled it away from his ear a bit. Drawing Harm's attention with the angry-sounding voice on the other line, he gave his brother a bit of a shrug, feeling bad that he was still standing there in the dark.

Putting his mouth back by is, Sean said, "No, sir…I don't know that yet, sir…I know you wanted to know that hours ago, sir…"

********

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	4. Chapter 4: Questionable Intentions

Harm went for long periods of time without ever talking to his brother, and once he did talk to him, he was left wondering why they didn't talk more. It never changed though. He could blame it on Sean being gone or focused on other things, but they were in the same Navy. If he couldn't move past the time and movement obligations on his brother, who ever could? Did it not upset him whenever Jordan hadn't wanted to deal with him being at sea?

Maybe it was because he was so focused on his career and his desire to have a family of his own one day, that it made it easy to forget about the family he had already other than his quest for his father which was over now. Maybe it was because Sean didn't have the wounds he did about their father because he'd never known him. Whatever it was, the older they got the more the rift Harm had felt between them, despite there never having been a poor word exchanged.

Why did it take his brother being charged with murder for him to think about these things?

He looked back at Sean as his brother looked at him while Webb mixed it up with Chegwidden. Harm wasn't keeping score, but he was sure that over the years, the Admiral had the tally in his favor.

Harm opened his mouth to say something to his brother, something…brotherly. And that's when the phone rang, just as the Admiral had asked under whose authority Webb expected Sean to leave.

Shifting his blue eyes to Webb, he saw the 'special assistant' listen to the first few words out of his brother's mouth. No doubt he was talking to one of his senior officers, if not the CO that had given whatever orders had led to the current predicament. That, coupled with Webb's presence, made this entire thing reek of an intelligence op, a spook parade. Which promptly reminded him of his former friend in NIS who had refused to help them whenever Hemlock shot Meg. He shot a bit of an accusatory look at his brother, wondering if that's what Sean had been reduced to.

He was jolted back to Webb's answer to Chegwidden, "I'm guessing under his authority," the 'special assistant' said pointing at Sean's phone.

Rabb tuned into Sean talking on the phone, "No, more sir…I didn't have time…Came on me…No excuse…Yes, sir…I was saying that wasn't the entire," at this point Sean trailed off, noticing everyone listening to him on the phone, he continued a bit more covertly, "that wasn't it, sir…Yes, sir, he's here…"

Another long pause and Sean spend a good few seconds looking over each of them.

"Yes, multiple implications, sir…I'm on it…I'll update in five hours, sir."

Sean pulled the phone away from his ear and held it towards Admiral Chegwidden, "For you, sir."

Harm raised an eyebrow again. This was getting stranger by the moment and cryptic. Whatever happened on that carrier, Sean hadn't had time to complete whatever he was supposed to do. Whatever had been going on, it was more than what they thought it was. Eying the phone, Harm really wanted to know who was on the other end of that line. He had two candidates, the same two candidates whom had seen the file and asked the Admiral to pay it personal attention in the first place.

This wasn't a murder, or at least not a simple murder, this was part of something larger. Part of a black op, singly executed, or an intelligence op, or something similar. The one thing that had Harm chewing on the inside of his lip was one thought that just wouldn't go away. SEALs didn't operate alone. Heck, intelligence operatives didn't go alone…Assassins went alone.

"You work for Webb?"

Judging by Sean's reaction, his brows nearly bridging together in a scowl, Harm knew he shouldn't have asked that question that way.

"I do NOT work for Clayton Webb," Sean retorted, showing Harm that his brother had similar hot/cold feelings towards Webb.

Arching an eyebrow, Harm asked a different way, silently.

"We work together quite a bit, but I wouldn't term us partners. We are not directly responsible to the same people, per se. Quite a bit of a difference there…" Sean explained, going through the bag.

Webb scoffed and Harm shot him a glare. That was a bit of his brotherly protectiveness coming out, apparently. If anybody was going to say something nasty to his brother, it was going to be him.

"So you're a spook?" Harm asked Sean.

And he shouldn't have asked that question that way either, because now Sean stopped doing what he was doing to glare at him.

"I am NOT a 'spook'…Are you a pencil-pusher?"

Giving Sean a touché look, he said, "You are in Naval Intelligence now?"

"Well, Harmony, that would imply that I fall under that chain of command, but that's the easiest way to explain it. I don't have time for this."

Frowning more and letting out another exasperated huff, Harm asked, "So who's chain of command do you fall under?"

****

Sean handed the phone off to Chegwidden, ignoring Harm's questioning look for the moment. Again, he was just grateful to not have to explain himself to the Admiral. Instead he directed his conversation to Webb, rifling through the bag and pulling out a small black case.

He went to open it until Harm asked if he worked for Webb. FOR Webb?!? What sort of a stupid question was that? Last he checked, he was facing a court martial for a murder charge which would preclude him NOT being in the Navy, and if he took orders from Webb, he wouldn't be in the Navy now would he. Harm had always failed at logic puzzles, so how exactly had he made such a good lawyer.

Explaining himself to his brother was never something he wanted to do. Plus, right now, it was just too long of a story. Suffice to say, Harm would have to deal with the half-truth answer he got. His use of 'Harmony' was definitely going to rub his brother the wrong way and hopefully shut him up for the moment.

Situation somewhat diffused, he opened the case and then took out the Ruger, slipping the magazine loudly into place as he said, "Fill me in, I'm behind now. You wanted them here first, why?"

Slipping an almost apologetic look to Harm, he set the gun down on the table. This did not answer how he was--. Then he put together how he was getting out of here, just as Webb started talking.

"You and Harm are supposed to-."

Sean cut him off before he could say it, "I get it, Webb, just…well, he IS my brother. I think I'll take this part from here."

With a loud growl, the Admiral slammed his phone shut, thrusting it back out towards him. It was apparent that his brother was just about to get the answer of exactly who Sean took his orders from.

"Well that was the CNO, says I'm just supposed to let a murderer call the plays and walk right out of here. I'm not fond of being used, Mr. Rabb…Mr. Webb… If I come to Naples to keep anyone company, it's my daughter, not the brother of one of my officers!"

"Sorry, sir," he said to the man, who must have just heard 'the plan' based on the very agitated look on his face. That sour look.

Webb didn't have any reply, just a smug look. Webb almost always had a smug look.

"What are you sorry for, Commander, taking your orders from higher places or using people like puppets?" The Admiral asked him irascibly, moving closer to him again.

That was below the belt, and Sean's face wore that thought clearly. Everybody but Harm now knew not what was going on, but how he was to deal with what was going on, and Sean didn't like that. He didn't like to see his brother glaring at him, angry for being the only one still left out.

Instead of answering Chegwidden, he pursed his lips and then said, "Can I talk to my brother alone, sir? Clay?"

He'd been given permission to say what he needed to say but also to do what he needed to do, but he still wasn't sure how much it would be wise to tell his brother, but he had to tell him something.

The second the door closed, the atmosphere changed.

****

Harm looked at his brother, a mounting unease crawling right up his throat like heartburn, only Harm hadn't eaten anything. His brother was an assassin, plain and simple, and that really bothered him. Really bothered him. Sean's face now looked guilty to him for a while different reason, or at least his hazel eyes did.

Part of Harm couldn't help but agree with Chegwidden. What was his brother apologizing for…treating people like puppets? That was something Harm just could not respect. A sniper he could respect, a SEAL he could respect, but after that incident with Hemlock, a member of the intelligence community he could just not respect. How had his brother's sense of logic ever allowed this?

Heaving a sigh, he said, "What's going on, Sean?"

Predictably, his brother replied, "I can't tell you that, Harm."

Of course not. Of course he couldn't tell him; he was a spook now. Harm scoffed, which dissolved into a growl. "Of course not."

"Not like that, just, it's too long a story. I'm low on time, I shouldn't even be bothering to talk to you, but you're my brother."

"Nice to know," Harm retorted.

"I'm not what you think I am, don't you trust me?"

Well, Harm would like to trust Sean, that was for sure, but right now that was almost like asking him trust Webb to not have ulterior motives. Webb was not his brother, though.

Shrugging, Harm nodded, but it was a noncommittal nod.

His brother sighed and Harm immediately felt guilty. If there was something more going on here, he was preventing his brother from following orders, but his brother had been the one to ask to talk to him alone.

"There's something I do need to tell you, though, Harm, even if it's not what you're asking me. Maybe it will make it easier for you to do something for me…"

Which must have had something to with what Webb had been saying before Sean had cut him off and kicked him out of the room. That had been enjoying to watch. Harm was on his guard now, not because of his brother, but because he was having a hard time coming to terms with what his brother was now and whether or not there was any overarching loyalty between them anymore.

"So tell me, Sean. Mr. I-don't-have-time."

He'd baited and Sean ignored the sentiment, instead keeping the same placid tone.

"You remember when you asked me to go to Russia with you, to look for dad?"

That definitely struck a chord, almost knocking the breath right out of Harm. It was still fresh, so very fresh. He rubbed his wrist where he'd always worn his father's MIA bracelet. Not able to push out words, Harm nodded. He remembered asking his brother for help, and he remembered his brother's response. The same response his brother had given him throughout his entire search. The same 'I'm sorry I can't help you' sort of response that Harm took to mean 'This doesn't mean anything to me like it does to you, Frank was my father'.

"I couldn't go with you, Harm, because I was already there," Sean paused.

Harm felt a ball growing in his throat. His eyes felt plastered open suddenly and when he finally blinked his eyes burned from being open so wide for so long. Sean had his attention now.

"When I don't have other operations, I frequently provide specialized assistance to the CIA, the same as how Webb had helped you guys at JAG now and then. Which, yes, I've known about for some time. I was trying to ascertain who was behind things between Sokol and Parlovski, and it was my job to take out the right one. I was there when you and your Marine landed off that Helo. I was there when Chegwidden decked Webb and shot Parlovski. I was going to get your answers for you if I could – I could have had my way with Parlovski, since it turned out to be him. I'm happy you've found your answers that you've been waiting for, just like I told you when we talked when you came back. I couldn't go with you to see Mom, I was still in Russia. I couldn't tell you because what I do is definitely classified information. But if you think that I didn't care, that's not true."

Harm tried to swallow, actually tried to swallow repeatedly. There had been an immeasurable amount of pain that Harm had experienced when his brother hadn't helped him or gone to see their mom afterward. An amount of pain that just solidified the biggest issue they'd ever had between them: that Frank was Sean's father, even if not by blood, and had NEVER been Harm's father. Now that pain was slowly changing, filling him with a different sort of pain.

His brother had never been one to show emotions. In fact, Sean was the most dispassionate yet likable person he'd ever met. Logic and no mental emotion, that was how he'd always painted his brother. But he was speaking with emotion now, and they'd never much talked quite like this. Maybe he'd painted his brother unfairly?

Then Sean continued, and his words made Harm stop breathing. "I went there, you know, to say what I needed to say too. I've been through a lot of physically painful things, Harm, and not being able to share that with you was the worst thing I've ever had to deal with because of my duty. Even so, that doesn't mean that it wasn't important for me to go there and hear the story and say goodbye for myself."

Harm couldn't talk about that, couldn't talk about this, not now, not without showing emotion that he definitely didn't want written on his face when his CO and Webb came back in.

"What do you need?" he asked his brother.

*********

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	5. Chapter 5: Trusting in Honor

Throughout their adult life, Sean knew that his increasingly aloof responses had always hurt his brother. Harm was always the sort that wore his emotions on his sleeve, while Sean certainly was not. He felt them and he was aware of them, but Sean never allowed them to rule him or to display themselves for others to exploit.

Harm was likely going to blame his dispassionate responses on his involvement in Naval Intelligence and with the CIA, but really that was furthest from the truth. There was a definite separation between Sean and those sorts. At least in Sean's mind there was. Nor would Harm be correct in his assumption. His Martial Arts training since he was a young boy had taught him to never allow emotions to cloud reason and reaction time. It was why his brother clung to talking about Sean's 'Logic', which really had little to do with logic.

On the other hand, Sean might have hurt his brother with his matter-of-fact responses or by-the-book responses, but Harm had also hurt Sean numerous times. Like he was trying to do now, staring at Sean as if he was some sort of an abomination and making snide remarks. Harm had always had a quick tongue and a sharp wit, but he was also amazingly transparent.

Harm was not pleased with what he thought Sean did with his life and career. Sean didn't have the time to explain it all to his brother and redeem himself, but he could explain about something he knew mattered a lot to Harm: their father.

Sean spoke very candidly, careful to avoid that dispassion his brother so often accused him of, and he could see Harm respond. Not that Harm was hard to read.

And then the magic words: "What do you need?"

Were Sean not talking to his brother he would have prefaced this with saying that if Harm didn't volunteer to go along with it, it was probably going to be made an order. However, that would just take back everything he'd just said to Harm as a brother.

"I need you to take my place," he said, standing in front of Harm and putting a hand on his shoulder.

Harm's body stiffened a bit and he frowned, "You want me to sit in a brig and through a court martial for you?"

The 'are you insane?' ending that Harm obviously wanted to tack on there was apparent, but unspoken.

"I need to get back out there."

Scoffing, Harm said, "And I don't? I'm supposed to be investigating this you realize."

"No offense, but you don't even know what you are investigating."

Sean knew that this wasn't going to be easy, but he also knew that in the end his brother would do it. Do it for him, not because some superior officer ordered him to. He wouldn't do it for some sense of duty either. He'd do it for his brother. Sean knew that Harm was and always would be the hero. Despite Sean being the tougher one and the book-smart one, he'd always looked up to Harm for that selflessness and ease that were such huge components of a true hero.

"Sean, Chegwidden will eat you alive. Tell me what you need, and I'll get it for you. I'll clear you."

Yes, such a hero.

"Harm, this isn't about me, this isn't about a murder charge. This is bigger than me or you. I don't need to get cleared and you can't get what I need."

Of course his brother's eyebrows raised as if to say he was doubtful that he couldn't get what Sean needed. Harm always had believed in the impossible. Heroes did believe in the impossible.

Suddenly, Sean realized what he'd need to do. His brother wasn't used to taking the back seat in these situations. He'd run the gambit with Webb just like Sean had, or at least that's likely exactly what Harm was thinking. Sean wasn't going along with Webb's plan now, with the plan that had been developed without him while he'd been sitting in the brig. This was his operation and he'd been given the go-ahead to disperse information as needed according to his discretion. Not only that, but he had the authority to dictate the path of this operation, not Webb.

Despite the fact that he had all the permissions, just like that one time in the Academy, Sean knew that permissions didn't always make up for end-results, and he'd be held accountable. He could be taking a nose-dive, but he couldn't take advantage of Harm, and he'd show both of these JAG lawyers that he had no intentions of using people like puppets. There were reasons he was still a naval officer and that was prime among them; Sean had honor and loyalty and wasn't willing to sacrifice them.

"Give me twelve hours, Harm. That's all I need. I'll be in and off that carrier by then. Hopefully, with all the information I need. After twelve hours, you can tell them Webb drugged you or black-mailed you or whatever – I'll leave that up to you, you'll have twelve hours to think of the best story. You've blue eyes, I've hazel, it's on my record, they'll have no choice but to let you go." Hopefully that was the case, if not, he knew that Chegwidden would raise such a stink that they would definitely have no choice but to let Harm go.

Sighing, his brother looked down, lips pursed in thought.

"Then what? They'll be after you and you'll have a slew of charges. I'm guessing that you're expendable if caught because there is no way the CNO is going to stick his neck out for you. What if you don't find what you need?"

"I can take care of myself, Harm, and I will find what I need. Besides, Webb will ensure to put the right obstacles in place to keep them from catching up with me – he'll tie it up in so much red tape that they won't know what hit them. The CNO won't exonerate me but he can give the CIA jurisdiction, and he will."

Harm shook his head as if he wasn't so sure of all of that. Sean knew it was the time to throw the carrot out to his brother; the thing that would make this all the more worth it to Harm.

Sean squeezed his shoulder, "This is your investigation, right, well I guess 'then what' is you help me. I can't brief you to do what I need to do, but I could use your help once I get off the carrier. You have a personal cell, if it's the same number I have, thirteen hours from when we set our watches, I'll call you and we'll meet, just make sure you aren't tailed."

Let his brother play the hero, no easier way to get him to cooperate.

"Twelve hours," his brother said, looking up.

Sean dropped his hand from his brother and unbuttoned his pants.

"All right then, switch clothes with me."

*****

When Chegwidden heard Rabb, whichever one, call out that they could come back in, he opened the door and strode back in to get away from Webb. If he was stuck in the hallway with that man talking on his cell any longer, Chegwidden was going to deck him. Again.

Stopping right inside the door, his mouth parted just a little bit. The Rabbs were just switching shirts. The Admiral's eyes traced over the roadmap of scars all over the younger Rabb. Scars which spoke to the fact that he had been held captive before on an operation. Burn marks, permanent discolorations, purple-tinged wormlike scars raised from his skin. So many that he didn't even really notice the tattoos also decorating the skin that would have been covered by the LCDR's shirt.

At that point, he vowed to himself not to take his anger out at this 'plan' completely on the younger Rabb (he'd take it out on Webb, that was much more familiar anyway). The former SEAL would not see this naval officer as some other CIA spook, like Webb, because he probably didn't deserve that. Rabb had obviously made sacrifices in the service of this country, something which Chegwidden hadn't had to and wasn't primed to think about or face since leaving D.C. He'd just have to remind himself that Sean Rabb shared the same SEAL background, and he had no doubt that he'd have to remind himself repeatedly.

Webb finally spoke up, which made Chegwidden glare just out of habit. "Must be hard for you to do this, Harm, but we'll be sure to switch you back."

"You're damn right you will!" Chegwidden bellowed. Why was Webb so snide and smug all the time? Was it a requirement for spooks?

"Webb, you might only have to see them now and then, but you have to see me on a regular basis," the younger Rabb said in that dangerously low tone of voice that conveyed just how much of a threat that really was. "And that is my brother, I take it that you do know the lengths a Rabb will go to for family?"

To the Admiral's pleasure, Webb blanched. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, there was no way that naval officer took any orders from Webb. If anything this was conveniently showing the opposite, or that by merits alone, Webb was threatened enough by Rabb that if push came to shove, Rabb would come out on top in any decision-making process. That thought alone gave him a bit of hope that this entire thing would neither be a complete mess nor have him veritably pissed off continuously until it was over.

Chegwidden was surprised that he could have this fast of an opinion turn-around (or at least one to neutrality) on this other man, this other man who was supposed to call the shots and needed him to be a glorified distraction when they got back on the carrier. It was just set up for them not to get along with those parameters, but he was finding it difficult to continue hating the slippery and somewhat enigmatic SEAL, former SEAL, whatever it was that he was. Spook. Whatever.

And yes, at some point in time he was going to demand that absolutely everything be explained, during or after, but it would happen. That and he was going to expressively convey his displeasure about this entire thing upon returning to D.C. and woe be it to he that tries to stop that process from happening.

"Let's get this done and over with, gentlemen," he said in a commanding yet disgruntled tone.

Shirts exchanged, the two brothers looked at each other, giving nearly identical, lopsided yet forced half-smiles. The ones that conveyed a lot to their respective givers but couldn't much be interpreted.

"Good luck, and I'm holding you to that," Harm said, raising an eyebrow and pointing a finger at imposter Harm.

Chegwidden wondered what that meant, but it sounded as if some bribery had been used to ensure cooperation in typical spook fashion.

"You know it," was the only reply the younger brother gave, before picking up the bag and sticking the gun from it in the waist of his pants at the small of his back, covering it with the navy blue jacket.

Suddenly, the Admiral decided that the first thing he was demanding from Webb was a sidearm of his own. There was no way some spook was packing and he wasn't, even if said spook was a SEAL spook, which was how he was now thinking of him in his head.

****

Harm watched as the door closed leaving him alone. Sighing, he put his hands in his pockets, waiting for his escort back to where they had been holding his brother. Even for twelve hours, this was going to be incredibly painful and boring.

He'd be lying if there wasn't a little voice gnawing away at him on the inside wondering what would happen if this all didn't pan out the way that was planned. Which led said voice to ask what he would do if Sean had lied to him.

Oh he'd be sure enough to act 'out of it' enough to convince the powers that be that Webb had done something to him and executed the switch, because really it would be an interesting after-thought to give Webb a little something to deal with on his own. Harm always did like screwing with the man, although decidedly not as much as his CO did, that was for sure.

(Flashback)

Frowning, Harm walked down the hallway with his fourteen year old brother oblivious to their mother giving them the stink eye from the living room they were leaving. Without a word, his brother walked into his own room, and Harm stopped by the door. Chancing a look back down the hallway, he noticed that neither his mom nor Frank were watching him. So instead of proceeding to his own room, he followed Sean into his.

He's be chancing some big-time yelling considering the stunt he'd just pulled, just having come back from looking for his father with Stryker.

"Why did you tell them that you knew where I was now of all times?" Harm asked, befuddled.

"I would have wanted to go with you."

"What difference does that make?"

"Because I should have been with you."

Scowling, Harm asked again, "What difference does that make, Sean, geez? You didn't have to get in trouble too."

"But I wanted to, Harm, what's all this 'geez'. I'm your brother. I figured if they were mad at me too, that it would take some of the attention off you."

"That's silly."

"No it's not," Sean challenged him, crossing his arms.

"What's the use of us both being grounded forever, doesn't help me any."

Harm could tell that statement hurt his brother, the squirt had obviously been trying to help him, and he'd just shoved it in his face. Well it was true, it hadn't helped him any. His brother was the weirdest kid. Had his own little karate-ka code of honor, the babushka or bubishi or budokon or…bushido, that was it. Bushido. Someone needed to tell Sean that he was not Japanese.

"Why didn't you tell me?" his brother challenged right back, having taken the slight by his change in demeanor. One of those rare times where his brother showed strong emotion. That was apparently against the babushka too. Books and Martial Arts, his brother had obviously been corrupted by Frank. He definitely wasn't normal.

"Because you have Frank," Harm spit back, "And you would have just told them, and I wouldn't have been able to go."

Sean retorted, "I would NOT have, and he's my father too, Harm!"

"You don't act like it!"

"Because I like Frank too?"

"Because you call him 'Dad'," Harm said as if it was the most distasteful, disrespectful thing ever. "Besides you're just too young, there would be no point in telling you, because you wouldn't be able to go."

"He adopted me, he's been my dad, but that doesn't mean that my real dad is not still my dad too!" His brother huffed and then added, "Too young, who cares, mom said you were too young to do something like that! And I can hold my own better than you, we can't even spar together anymore evenly matched."

Ego slighted from that, Harm left any realm of common-sense and logic he'd been clinging to, which rather proved that his brother was right, despite the fact that Harm couldn't realize this.

"You can only have one dad, Sean, and I don't want to do Martial Arts anymore because it's what Frank wants you to do. I don't want a part of it. I don't want to be a part of him brainwashing you. I just let you win anyway, idiot."

The yelling that they hadn't even realized they'd been doing was suddenly interrupted by a shrill, "Harmon Rabb, Jr.! What part of 'you're grounded indefinitely and go to your room' did you not understand?"

Turning to face his mother, who was red-faced with her hands on her hips, Harm's mouth opened and closed like a fish. He had no response as his mom grabbed him by the wrist, pulling him out of his brother's room as she whacked him on the back of the head. Albeit, it wasn't in any way, shape, or form hard, but it surprised him. He didn't even have a chance to look back at his brother as his mom pulled him towards his own room.

"I'll tell you one thing, Mr. Defender of his Father, your father would find your behavior appalling and disrespectful! Not to mention he would not stand for you talking to your baby brother that way, young man. Do you think he'd want either of you to grow up without a man in the house, or me to try and raise two pig-headed Rabb boys on my own?"

Quietly and a bit sheepishly, he responded, "No, ma'am…" Now whether or not he really meant that was quite another thing, but he knew it was what his mom wanted to hear. He basically knew she was right but that wasn't the way he looked at it. He knew his father wouldn't have wanted to do this to their family, but he also knew that no father would want his sons to forget about him.

"Now, I've told this to you before, and I'm not repeating it again. You don't have to like Frank, we've both given up on that, but he's good to you and your brother, and you will NOT persecute your brother for accepting him in his life."

Sighing, Harm parroted back, "Yes, ma'am."

"You better mean that, because this IS your brother. Your full-blood, son of your father, brother."

"I do, mom," he said, "Sorry?"

Harm flopped on his bed after his mom slammed the door to his room shut. Apparently, she'd more than enough of him for one day, despite him being back in one piece and her initial teary greeting. She was all business now.

(End Flashback)

****

Soon to come: Sean finds the piece to the puzzle that leads him to his next step, Harm executes his release, and we meet some of the other 'players' in this game from both sides (one of whom joins Webb as being someone who has known both Sean and Harm)!

If you want it, please leave me a review, because I am getting sad!


	6. Chapter 6: Duty Stations

AN: Thanks for the reviews guys!

VID – Without further ado, Meg!

Gram Rabb – You made me less sad, LOL

Laurie – Thanks! Hope you like it

MichelleUK – No Harm in this one, but the next one for sure

Lieutenant Meg Austin was a multitalented girl. Smart. Loyal. Ambitious. Unassuming. Spunky. She was spunky. She'd seen spunkier days, though. Following assignment to JAG HQ, she had been moved to serve in a 'special' naval intelligence unit, which was really more like her and two other officers, using her varying skills. Intelligence, law, computers, weapons – apparently that was quite the enticing combination.

At one point, she would have been thrilled with this job, but things hadn't been the same since she left. Not that she didn't like her current duties, it was rather exciting. Okay, very exciting. Which just made her think about how much Harm would have liked it. He always had that thrill-seeking thing. Apparently, it was a very Rabb trait.

The irony was that she went from one Rabb, nearly instantly to another Rabb.

That and she'd made an idiot of herself with said Rabb.

(Flashback)

She'd just gotten done with the special training she needed for her new position, and was to report the next morning. But first, she was going to enjoy some of the 'bella figura' of the Italian culture. Did you know that the Napolitanos had opened the first espresso café? Maybe a bit of fresh air would help to keep her mind off _him_.

That was when she saw him, and she thought that perhaps he was there to surprise her! This duty station was classified, but he'd obviously found out.

Instead of running up to him and tossing her arms around him, as he seemed to be trying to observe her without her noticing, she made some hook 'em horns at him, because yes he'd taught her exactly what that meant in Italy. It was something playful that would get him to stop the charade; he was busted.

It as at that moment that the man pulled his head back in shock, looked left, then right, then behind him before frowning.

Whoops! Maybe not. Maybe that was wishful thinking. Maybe that wasn't Harm. Right. Ummm. She felt the blush coming to her face. Oh no! And that blush was growing as the man strode forward toward her.

Oh man did he look like Harm. Uncanny. Although his pants were a little larger than Harm would have worn them, and Harm wouldn't have worn that belt. From the look of the black, leather jacket on this man, Harm should have worn a leather jacket. She turned her head as he got closer, pretending that she hadn't seen him. He'd just walk right by, right?

As his finger tapped her shoulder, she looked up wide-eyed. The stranger (did she make it clear that he looked a lot like Harm?) leaned down by her ear.

"Sono un uomo d'onore…Significa che desidera dormire con me. Non sei italiano, si? Significa 'cuckold'*," and with that he made some nice hook 'em horns. He'd obviously pegged her to be American.

"Uhh, me dispiace?" she ventured, not understanding much until 'cuckold,' but figuring that he'd explained what it meant. "Sono Americano.*"

Good to practice her very mediocre language skills.

With a small smile he said, "I said that I am a man of honor and tried to explain what that gesture meant, like I said cuckolding…Let me give you some advice, one American to another, stay away from the motorbikes and braciole is not just a dinner meat, in case anybody offers you some. Have a good night."

That had been enough embarrassment for her for quite some time. She might like to toe the line making jokes with…right she wasn't supposed to think about him. Anyway, it wasn't like her to toss sexual gestures at strange, foreign men.

Apparently, though, she was learning just how much of a mistake it had been.

Her new position was technically headquartered in the office of the CNO, but at the moment the team was working out of Naples under their OIC who went by the pseudonym of Thor (apparently this entire thing was so hush hush that she would put proper names to faces when she reported). She had learned that this was technically billed as part of Naval intelligence that worked on cooperative endeavors involving USN forces with the CIA, using methods and tactics that were a bit above typical ONI operatives. She liked to look at it as bridge forces between the ONI and the CIA; she'd be serving as a liaison to both SEAL teams that were to be involved as well as civilian 'specialists' that were contracted by the Navy for these sorts of missions. At least, that was her understanding. They did the bidding of the CNO, that she did know. Damage control; that was what she had grown to understand over the years.

She was to meet her new boss at the embassy through a Mr. Clayton Webb who had arranged for her training and was apparently the CIA liaison.

Her faux pas came back to bite her when Mr. Webb congenially pointed her toward a room at the end of the hall. After knocking at the door, she walked in when she heard a loud 'IN' through a flutter of talking she'd caught through the door.

He was on the phone. She was just about to announce herself when he turned around, his voice fading out on the phone. IT WAS THE GUY SHE'D MADE HOOK 'EM HORNS AT! The guy who looked like HARM!

"I needed it an hour ago. Keep me updated," he resumed before ending the call and hanging up the phone.

Finally she came out of it and stood at attention.

"Lieutenant JG Austin reporting as ordered, sir."

He cleared his throat and then said, "At ease."

That was when she saw the name 'Rabb' on his uniform, her eyes rising to his LCDR and SEAL insignia. What was going on?

Holding out his hand to her, he introduced himself, "Lieutenant commander Sean Rabb. I hear you're quite the computer and weapons specialist, LT, on top of being an excellent investigator and lawyer. Reports from your training were phenomenal. This isn't an easy duty assignment, you'll need to be a very quick learner and very flexible. I trust you can handle that; I hear you've adapted to situations previously, but this is considerably more."

To his credit he didn't give her any indication of having remembered her from the night before, but she knew that he must have. There was no way that he couldn't. She could feel the flush on her cheeks almost through the entire meeting.

(End Flashback)

Suddenly the phone rang, pulling her out of her memories. Then things came crashing down reminding her of those very old hurts.

Their OIC was in the brig. Now she had to contain a group of rather forceful civilian…well they were like mercenaries nearly. That wasn't her main concern, however.

Hanging up the phone, she could do nothing but let her mouth hang just a bit open, the sudden rush of discomfort settling in between her stomach and heart completely stilling her thinking.

'Why' was the first thing that kept repeating once the cloak of shock left.

Why her? Why him? Why? Why? Why?

The assault on her memory was immediate – reminders from a similar occasion. Flutters of peach lips slightly parted in disbelief, those blue-green eyes looking back at her, pleadingly so, promising her things without a spoken word. Promising her that he would be okay, and that he trusted her to help him. He assured her with those eyes even though it was him who was being carted away for a murder he hadn't committed, facing a lifetime in jail. And he was worried about her.

She had helped him, just like his eyes had known she would, and then she'd never seen or heard from him again. She'd been forced to leave. She'd never gotten to see if he was proud of her, gotten to cling onto him after saving him as he had done to her after saving her.

Her eyes squeezed shut trying to block out the pain she'd thought she'd long since packed away. How could she really have packed it away when she still saw a shadow of him all the time and not just in her mind? He was nearly there, in real life, right in front of her so many times. The only subtle difference, their eyes, and his decidedly un-lawyerly build.

As her eyes burned, she let out a gasp-like sob remembering his cocky smile, the way he'd hold his finger up at her as if to say 'I know what trouble you're up to', his hand grabbing hold of hers in the mud saving her from so much more than he could know, his sidelong glances, the way that one piece of black hair always stuck a little out of place on the right.

All this brought on by a simple statement from one Clayton Webb: "Rabb is being charged with murder."

It didn't matter that it wasn't the same Rabb as the last time.

Why? Why AGAIN?

Wasn't it enough to look at him without it being him? Wasn't it enough to work with him without it being him? Was it so much to ask that he not remind her in any more specific ways of him?!? Was it so much that she didn't want to be reminded of THAT? Was it so much to ask that it not all get taken away AGAIN!

How was it possibly fair to take away the only bit of him that she'd been left with? It was decidedly not him, but it was better than nothing.

Better than nothing were his smiles that were decidedly not cocky but simply confident, his eyes that were protective not out of love but out of responsibility, his smell that wasn't sexual but simply familiar, his words that were not flirtatious but honest, his leadership that wasn't about the intangible but the tangible… But all that was better than nothing.

She'd been through this once before, Rabb, her Rabb being charged with murder. Her Harm. Then she'd been treated to a sick cosmic joke, and now that was changing into an even sicker cosmic joke. They'd both been taken away from her by being charged with murder. How could this be happening all over again?

And all she'd been told was: "Continue with what you have since his last communication, we'll keep you updated."

Not that "He needs you" or "We need you to help with the investigation or his defense".

Of course, what they were doing or the operation they were involved in was more important than any one man, but the intelligence they had was not the sort of intelligence that they could work off for long, so what difference would it make if she went to help him? Without him they had no information to work from, well not none, but certainly less! She hadn't spent all that time at JAG headquarters for nothing and she was already in Naples! She was not, could not go through this again. Not because she couldn't deal without him, but because it reminded her of dealing without him. It made it doubly heartbreaking inside.

There simply wasn't a place for Lieutenant Meg Austin in the Navy without a Lieutenant Commander Rabb. She'd long since given up on it being the one she wanted, but again something was better than nothing.

*****

Hours later her phone rang again, the number on the ID making her snap it open so hard she almost broke it. She couldn't speak into it, but didn't have to.

"I'm out. I'll need you to contact Webb; he'll brief you and you can disseminate to everyone else. I'm heading back on board. Everyone will need to be ready in about twelve hours," The lieutenant commander's voice informed her.

And she let out the breath she hadn't realized that she'd been holding, so much so it made her lips tingle. She nodded, but he couldn't see. She'd been afraid she was never going to hear that voice again. Even if it wasn't him.

"You there, Texas?" he asked in that deep, familiar baritone, with that slight hint of ease and humor that he sometimes had, but only sometimes. That slight thing that she clung to, that reminded her so very much of him.

"I'm here, sir…And I'll take care of it."

The subsequent conversation hadn't mattered, the updates, the itinerary, what he needed from her. Needed. How that word coming from his voice had made her heart nearly stop. They sounded so alike.

It reminded her of how much she really missed Harm. Last time she'd been in D.C. she had wanted to contact him, much like the other times she'd been in D.C., but she could never manage it. A piece of her was afraid that it wouldn't be the same.

*Italian (and my Italian is shaky so it might not be perfect): I am an honorable man. That means you want to sleep with me. You aren't Italian. That means 'cuckold'.

I'm sorry and I'm American.

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	7. Chapter 7: Down and Dirty with the Truth

AN: I have altered the previous chapter a bit, if you are interested in re-reading it.

Sean lamented not being able to give his brother the entire story before leaving him to wait it out in the brig. There was just no simple way to explain what he did, and his brother's judgmental looks told Sean exactly what his brother thought: that Sean was a cold-blooded killer.

While not being untrue, it also wasn't true.

He'd been the OIC of SEAL team 2 for quite some time, before that the 2IC. Sean had killed people previously, and he'd likely have to continue to do so as was necessitated, like on the carrier, but he wasn't sent out places purposefully to kill people.

Sean wasn't an assassin.

That's what they had 'specialists' to do.

If they needed someone to sit a duty undercover, he certainly wasn't sending a civilian, which was how he'd ended up 'serving' on the carrier. He went in on operations and while his position allowed some latitude for going in, it was a command position. He spent a good portion of time planning and dictating; when he did go in he was usually flanked by the contracted civilian 'specialists' or by an actual SEAL team (depending upon the scenario).

How did you explain to your brother that you'd jumped designators? It wasn't that often that you went from one area to another, so Sean going from special ops to intelligence was interesting enough. The fact that his position was permanently assigned outside of the Office of Naval Intelligence was the really interesting and hard to explain part.

_Hello, Harm, nice to see you. I know I just killed someone and you are supposed to defend me, but I have to go. You see, I work damage control and threat dissipation for the CNO…I need to finish getting my intel so that I can send a bunch of glorified mercenaries after potential terrorists. Have a nice day._

The mere thought of that was enough to bring a slight smile to Sean's face as he exited, without any fuss, with Admiral Chegwidden and Webb.

"Commander. Let's set the record straight here, shall we? I'm not happy about this. You pissed on the wrong leg, no matter who told you to do so. Now, SEAL to SEAL, you'd best get this situation squared away or you won't know what hit you after I target you."

That certainly pulled any traces of a smile off Sean's face.

"Understood, sir." Well it seemed that Harm was right that Chegwidden was at least going to try to eat him alive, but this wasn't anything he didn't hear on any regular basis.

It wasn't like Sean liked the situation either. It was too far gone. As soon as they were in the car, Webb having agreed to drop them at a transport back to the carrier, Sean opened his phone to appraise the rest of his team.

Time for Texas to step up. Not that she wasn't good at pulling together the pieces in his absence. She was plucky and actually did a good job not taking crap from the civilian men. When they worked with Navy personnel he didn't need to worry about that; they wouldn't disrespect her even if she was a woman. There might not be females in special ops but there were female intelligence personnel who dealt with some hairy situations and a superior officer was a superior officer.

At least she mostly had to deal with equals if they worked with SEALS, OICs of SEAL teams were almost all O3, which she was; it had been a bit more of a challenge when she was an O2 if he wasn't around. Ruffled feathers and SEALS and a spunky Texan made for many headaches.

Sean was simply lucky that he came from that command, so he knew quite a few of the OICs as well as the COs, so even though the command decisions came from O5s, they worked together rather well. It had probably been planned that way; it was likely one of the reasons he was chosen. His position was a bit too small scale for a full commander, but definitely required some specialized knowledge.

Most of the ride Sean spent on the phone, which seemed to really annoy Chegwidden.

****

Displeased was fast turning into annoyed as Rabb flipped open his phone AND his laptop and started talking away and typing away. Apparently he was just supposed to bring this guy back onto the carrier, and he didn't deserve any form of briefing. He really was a glorified distraction. Distraction from whatever it was Rabb was going to be doing, and all he'd been told was that Rabb needed to perform a search of the ship.

What he had gathered from the brief conversation with the CNO was that the last communication he'd received from Rabb had indicated that he'd discovered one of the Lieutenants had been planted there with hostile intent. Exactly what intent was what Rabb was supposed to find out. Chegwidden figured that Rabb was trying to force information out of the man when others had come upon them. Why Rabb had felt the need to snap the guy's neck was anyone's guess, but he wanted to know.

The second that Rabb put down the phone, he cleared his throat.

"I am not going to sail into this blind, Rabb. I want to know what happened on that ship that I'm bailing you out."

He eyeballed the Commander, looking for any telltale signs of discomfort. Anything that would give him more information or anything for him to disect.

Rabb did nothing but clear his throat.

"Well, sir, since I am sure that you'll demand an explanation and will get it now or later…I was trying to ascertain the nature of a direct threat. A threat posed by this 'spy', 'terrorist' whatever you'd like to call him. Intel suggested a plant, but not what said plant was doing. I found him, and I was trying to unravel whatever plot he was a part of. That's why I was ramming him into the wall. I wanted to get the information fast, and I'd rather get it than leave it up to whatever the CIA would do which is never pretty and rarely that fast. He was on one of our ships, sir. I was about to declare an arrest and relay the information back to substantiate my authority to pull him off the ship when I was interrupted."

So, Rabb was trying to explain that he wasn't trying to torture and kill the guy. That was what it boiled down to. He was employing a brief scare tactic to try and get the information, likely threatening the guy with whatever would be done to him under the table once the CIA got involved. He hadn't intended on doing any more. That hadn't worked out, obviously. It still didn't explain why he'd killed a man.

"I couldn't leave him on that ship, sir. Once he knew that he was compromised, God knows what he would have done. I hadn't communicated back his name yet and didn't know when I'd have the chance to declare the threat to someone who would do something about it without questioning me."

"So you snapped his neck?" He said, a bit incredulously.

"Yes, sir. I had a choice. Try and explain fast and hope that they didn't let that guy walk away. Or ensure the safety of the people aboard that ship as best as I could, and who knows how many more people. As I said, I hadn't gotten the information which is why I need to go back."

Pursing his lips, the Admiral sat back and crossed his arms over his chest, digesting the information.

"Do you have suspicions of what he was doing?"

The Commander shrugged, "Hunches, sir, but hunches don't often save lives. In this line of work, we can't afford the time to go hunting down the wrong avenues. I thought he was either attempting to steal avionics…or investigating employing a biological agent."

Avionics? Wait a minute. Had he just said a biological agent?

"A biological agent? You've got to be kidding me, Commander. This isn't your sandbox to play around in. You need to inform-."

"Sir, all due respect, I've informed. I don't get to make those decisions. I don't get to decide if everyone needs to know to ensure safety on that ship. I follow orders. I have to substantiate, right now the guy is dead, he can't pose a threat on that ship right now. Operatives are already hunting down known associates. If there is a biological agent, it's contained, or else we would know by now."

"I'm not liking this, Mr. Rabb." He growled.

And he didn't, not one bit.

Nor did he like conducting interviews while Rabb went searching, but one thing was for sure: everyone was buzzing around him, which likely made it easier for Rabb to poke around rather unnoticed and covertly.

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	8. Chapter 8: Between Brothers Part 1

A/N – Sorry it's been awhile, holidays make things go crazy!

Nothing was ever easy and nothing was EVER as it seemed; that was something Sean learned a long time prior. Despite being 'Harm', Sean had definitely run into some hang-ups in getting what he needed. It reminded him that looking alike despite different personalities would always attach him to his brother and his brother to him.

Webb had afforded him quite a few necessary implements to get what he needed, which was any information that had been stored in the computer. Sean was no computer expert, so he promptly started sending files through to 'Texas' (as he liked to think of her) through Webb's satellite uplink. Did he particularly care that the nosy Special Assistant was likely tapping right into it? No, because at the end of the day Webb could take some of the glory if they got the job done, that wasn't why Sean was doing this job.

In fact, nothing with Sean was ever about glory. It was always about pushing himself, testing himself, but never about ego. As he waited for the files to go through and for some response, that's where his mind drifted.

(FLASHBACK)

Sean spent a lot of quality time with that heavy bag, but it was rarely for something like boxing technique. Apparently that was _the thing_ at the Academy. Annual brigade boxing tournament. No ranks in the ring. As if it would _really_ make Sean feel better to show some power-hungry upperclassmen that the real power didn't come from rank. It wouldn't, and he honestly didn't much care. However, his fellow plebes had convinced him that he could at least do it for them. Seriously, that was exactly the way they had put it: 'Take one for the team, Sean-o!' and 'It'll make the year all worth it!' It would be a challenge; something different to do to see if he could go from martial arts to boxing.

Now, he wasn't the _only_ plebe with a desire to see this boxing tournament through, but he was likely the only one that wasn't going to end up a completely bloodied mess.

Between now and then, he really needed to segway his martial arts training into something useful in the boxing ring…aside from the fact that he could take a few hits. Which was why he'd asked his brother to meet him here. Met him here fifteen minutes ago. If one thing was going to butcher Harm in the Navy, it was punctuality. Not that he had to be on time for his plebe brother anyway.

"Hey, Seany, sorry I was studying with Schonke."

Putting both his hands on the bag to stop it, he turned to see a goofy grin on his brother's face.

"Uh huh…" Of course he was. Studying. Because Harm was just the glowing beacon of studiousness.

"What?"

"Studying what exactly?" Sean tested.

"Well…I was helping her with Calculus…"

Snorting Sean rolled his eyes, "Yes, because I have to help _you_ with Calculus, and I'm supposed to believe that?"

Harm frowned, he was never that great of a liar. This was exactly what he got for having a weird brother. The sort of brother that was two years younger and graduated high school the same year he did. Thankfully the age difference at least prevented him from having to deal with his brother being in the same year as him at the Academy, because really this was enough. They shared enough classes as it was considering Sean had two years before coming to make his already swollen brain even more swollen.

"You are NEVER going to let me forget that one assignment, are you?" He finally said. "And she's still a class below than me, I think I have that stuff mastered."

"You never let me forget a thing," Sean challenged back.

"Ahh…so that's a no?"

Sean chuckled a bit and shook his head, "That's a no," he affirmed.

"What do you want anyway," Harm asked, running a hand through his black hair and then leaning his tall frame against the wall.

"Not obvious? I want you to help me. You've been doing this two years already," he said, tapping the bag with a gloved hand.

"You want _my _help?"

Smiling slightly, Sean put on his best 'pretty please' face and said, "Yes, sir." Which promptly caused Harm to huff and snort, his face screwing up a bit in a mixture of amusement and annoyance.

"Keeter and I are training together."

Sean raised an eyebrow, "Which means?"

"Which means I can't."

"You mean you won't. Well guess I'll have to do it myself."

"Sean, geez, don't take it like that. It's just…well you'll be in one of our weight classes, there is no way you'll drop enough weight to fall below us. It would be silly to train together to fight each other."

"That's no lie," Sean agreed about the weight. When you capped in at 3% bodyfat that didn't leave much wiggle room, and there was no way he was dropping muscle mass just so that he didn't step on Keeter's toes (or Harm's either). "Not like you haven't fought against me before…"

They were brothers, they'd fought all the time. They still fought all the time during leave.

"I can't. Anyway, not like you won't be perfectly fine. Get a book or something." Then his face lit up with a brilliantly snarky idea, "Why don't you ask Shides to train you, after all you are his favorite!"

(END FLASHBACK)

Sean snorted remembering that comment which had gotten the two of them into it. Good thing Harm was enough of a brother not to turn him in for decking him, because really he'd asked for it. They'd chalked their blood and bruises up to training and went on their merry way when Shides _had_ come along. It nearly made up for the fact that his brother dearest had suggested he ask a man that severely disliked him to help him train.

He was jolted back to reality by the text to his satellite phone.

"Got it. Clear and let's meet. Multiple targets, I've sent the info out."

Getting up, Sean grabbed his bag and tossed what he'd found and needed to bring back to get analyzed into it. He looked at his watch. Harm should be calling him within the next few hours.

It looked like that man he'd taken out was only one small piece of a much bigger plan, at least that's what Texas' message told him. That and dead men kept some interesting things in their room.

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	9. Chapter 9: Between Brothers Part 2

Harm was lucky they didn't hold him for conspiracy of some sort for playing a part of his brother 'escaping'. If he were them, he definitely would have suspected himself. If that made any sense.

Let's just say if he hadn't been able to get out of there, well, he would have volunteered to be the one to prosecute his brother when this was all said and done with. If he was honest with himself, yes, that was not true, but he'd rage like a lunatic at him. And if he knew Sean, Sean would let him too, might even let him deck him, because fair was fair.

This was just another one of those jagged edges in the rocky relationship between himself and his baby brother, or younger brother, or just Sean. Those jagged edges butted up against a sea too, a sea of mutally shared history that Harm couldn't help but dwell on whenever he spoke to Sean. Most brothers had good times and bad times, but their good and bad times were like the last guy he'd prosecuted: so bipolar you didn't know what was up and what was down and when they were going to switch.

Just like one particular leave before summer cruise.

(FLASHBACK)

Harm hadn't continued with as much martial arts training and his younger brother had and if he could have admitted it, he would have admitted that he didn't have a prayer against Sean. He was still far better than most, but Sean was a competition-style champion who'd probably rather train than sleep. Something which Harm had noticed in his brother's determination to train despite the stark lack of free time in plebe year.

So when Sean looked over at him after Harm had told him off and said, "Ohhh and what are you going to do, beat me up? Because you can't order me around at home."

Harm, of course, retorted, "Well maybe I will."

Rolling his eyes, Sean went back to reading his philosophy book, "Uh huh, that'll be the day, Harmony."

That was about all Harm was willing to take, if there was one benefit to Harm of being home it was the fact that while he couldn't order his brother around, he could (attempt to) kick the crud out of him whenever he wanted. Well, until their mother's shrieking hurt their ears too much to continue. So, he tackled Sean, lawn chair and all. To the credit of the lawn chair, it went flying but didn't break.

With immense satisfaction, he landed a punch right across his brother's nose before they'd even hit the ground. That was worth it.

Until Sean did some crazy move with his legs and suddenly had him contorted every which way.

All's fair in brotherly warfare, so he aimed an elbow for Sean's crotch. Mind you he couldn't move his arm much so there was not much force, but it broke Sean's hold and all Harm heard was a loud hiss.

If there was one thing Harm knew it was that if you didn't know how to grapple (which he really did not), you did NOT stay on the ground, so he jumped back up as Sean rolled back and did the same. Just how his brother wasn't grabbing his goods and still on the grass, Harm would never know. Sean was always saying that pain was blockable, but that sort of pain?

Whenever they were fighting it was never long before both reverted back to schoolyard tactics, forgetting anything else they'd ever learned in way of training. Instead of doing much ducking and weaving and blocking, they were nearly toe to toe just throwing punches at each other, grabbing each other, taking hit after hit without backing down.

Had Harm expected visitors that day, he might have never tackled his brother. If Harm knew what visitor they were expected, he mostly like wouldn't have tackled his brother for sure. They were so engrossed in killing each other that they hadn't heard the car pull up, nor the back door open, nor their mom's first screech, nor the 'I'll handle it, Trish,' that followed.

*******

Tom Boone was the sort of man that didn't back down, so he could nearly understand two pig-headed, idiot brothers not wanting to back down from each other. In fact, by now he was used to this sort of thing from his intermittent visits to check up on Hammer's kids and Trish. He'd be a real piss poor godfather to the younger one and a real piss poor example in general to the older one if he didn't visit at all even if it brought up some pain. Couldn't trust some used car salesman to get it all done, could you? Well not Tom Boone, he definitely didn't. So far as he was concerned the car salesman had some definitely odd effect on his godson, Sean, and he could only be rather thankful that Harm shunned the other man.

Marching straight into the thick of two well-over-six-foot tall boys, because they were certainly acting like some, he yelled, "What exactly do you two think you're doing. You're both property of the US Navy now, and I don't want to be taking any damaged goods back with me!"

With that he grabbed one by the hair and the other by the arm, pulling them apart. At this point he wasn't totally sure which was which. They honestly looked very much alike.

"You'd best stop fighting mister, or you're going to go back balder than I am," he said to whichever one he had by the hair, because both of them were still trying to push against him to get to the other.

One thing was for sure, it was a damn good thing he only had to deal with one of them for summer cruise. Just the older one. Technically that was the other reason for his visit, Harm Jr. was spending some time on the Seahawk. Hence the damaged goods comment. It might be an interesting trip back.

It took them both a few good seconds of using their brains before they realized just who had a hold of them. They suddenly stopped making swings at each other and just huffed, breathing heaving.

Squaring his jaw automatically, he let them both go, taking more than a few strands of hair away from the one he could now tell was Sean. He looked between them deciding if he was just going to start barking at them for being stupid or if he was going to wait and see what they had to say.

"I doubt that, sir," the younger one said before he had a chance to speak first.

It took him all of ten seconds to realize exactly what that meant, because he'd forgotten his threat about sending the one back balder. And be damned if the little shit wasn't smirking.

"I don't think I asked your opinion!" He barked right up in his godson's grill. It almost made him snort how fast that automatically academy grilled response of snapping to attention took over.

He was ready to continue his tirade when he noticed Harm snicker and cover his mouth to try and hide it.

"I don't think I asked you EITHER!"

Well this was certainly easier when both had some good academy training under their belts.

"I can make sure you spend your summer cruise far, far away from anything that flies!"

That definitely wiped all traces of amusement off twenty-one year old Harm's face. He turned back to the other one in time to see him mask the look of amusement on his face, schooling it back to blankness.

"Think that's funny? Don't think I don't know anybody where you're spending [i]your[/i] summer cruise."

Both of them were so different but predictably similar in some ways. That's when Captain Tom Boone noticed something else.

"What is that?" He asked, pointing down to the nineteen year old's bare chest that was definitely more decorated (and not in the traditional sense) than the last time he'd seen it.

"A tattoo, sir."

"Do I look like an idiot, son? Literally what is it?" Some black and red blob of something Asian-looking. Go figure. Of course, his godson was the one that was a bit on the strange side. Thanks to the used car salesman.

"No, sir, and it's a tiger, sir."

THAT was a tiger? Scowling he crossed his arms. Then he turned to Harm, "Anything you want to show me?"

By now Harm was wiping off his face, since he wasn't getting yelled at, which really wasn't that surprising.

"No, sir, I'm clean," he replied, speaking to his lack of tattoos, while pulling up the bottom of his tank top to blot the blood on his face. Then he leaned over and picked up his brother's shirt and tossed it at him.

Giving his older brother a bit of a wary eye, Sean put a corner of the shirt to his face and pressed it against his lip.

Good, they were making nice with each other now. Predictable. They just liked to bicker and come to blows before continuing on like nothing had happened.

**********

As soon as Harm pulled up in some car he must have gotten from Webb it had government unconsciously written all over it, Sean walked towards him. At once he was apprehensive about this and somewhat intrigued by it. It being including his brother. Harm seemed none the worse for his little sit about for Sean, thankfully.

"You weren't followed?"

Harm shook his head no.

Never having been the most social, Sean launched right into what was going on after rapping Harm on the shoulder in greeting.

"Not a heck of a lot of time, so bringing you up to speed… I was on that carrier investigating intelligence that there was a foreign plant on board, suspected terrorist plot, which is the man I killed. Going back we've determined that he was part of a much larger plot using biological agents. Thankfully, I killed him before he could do anything. He was supposed to pick it up on the next shore leave. Problem being that he wasn't the only one and that wasn't the only ship targeted. They've deployed EOD and hazmat teams, and that's out of my hands now. What's in my hands, is tracking these guys down from their position in Italy, which is where they were doing most of the handoffs."

He gave his brother a sidelong glance to make sure that he was following all this as he started walking down the promenade. They weren't driving a car. He didn't want to be followed.

Licking his lips, Harm said, "You mean to tell me that thousands of people are at risk of exposure to deadly toxins right now?"

Sean nodded, "Right, they are going to try and surreptitiously search through the ships, but we won't know which ones are targeted unless we find whose been handing off the biological agents. That's my team's job, well, with Webb and whatever intelligence operatives we have available near here and those that they are flying in."

"Leads yet?"

Well at least Harm was falling right into step.

"Close…" Then he stopped walking and faced his brother. "Just so there's no confusion. This is my team, my command, so when we're in the field remember that, and more than half of these guys are contractors, civilian specialists."

His brother pursed his lips but nodded. Sean was thankful that they were at a crossroads where they were at the same rate, not that it would have changed things in this situation, but it makes things easier and made for less confusion.

Before long they were inside the house Webb had gotten for them to work with their 'little civilian friends' as the special assistant liked to call them.

"First things first, you need to get out of that uniform. You can have some of my things," Sean said, leading Harm through a hallway to a room where he had a stash of clothes. "My guess is we'll go black when we go, but it's not always fast, so I'd go civilian for now."

It was one of the benefits that he and Harm were pretty much the same size, despite his brother not being quite as bulky. His things should fit. Poking his head out into the hallway, he grabbed one of his comms guys as he passed by and asked, "Where's Texas?"

"Working some maps on the computers, sir, trying to narrow down a location based on the intel we have so far. Webb's pulled in a guy, but he's not sure if it's related. He was on video-conference a few minutes ago, probably still is."

Sean looked back to see his brother pulling on a shirt, "Let's go see what Webb's got."

*****

Harm followed his brother into a room with a large flat-screen TV and a pretty sophisticated computer set-up. Definitely impressive. He could nearly envy Sean this job; Harm had rather liked (most of the time) when his duties had crossed Webbs. Apparently his brother got to live that all the time.

He didn't say a word until he looked from the computers to the young woman who was speaking through a webcam to Webb.

"Meg?" He said, incredulously, his jaw dropping.

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	10. Chapter 10: Reunions Part 1

A/N sorry for the long wait guys!

Reunions Part 1

Meg felt the presence of the commander as soon as he stepped into the room but knew he wouldn't say anything while Webb was on video-conference, not wanting to miss anything the 'Special Assistant' was saying.

They'd been working together for a long time now, but it had never gotten like it had with Harm even though she'd been with Sean for nearly 3 years now (which trumped the time she'd spent at JAG Headquarters). They couldn't finish each other's sentences or tease each other in…that way.

She could feel him standing over her, watching Webb talk.

Finally, she turned her head to greet him, but her blue eyes stopped traveling up to his face when she heard a 'Meg?' coming from behind him.

Her jaw dropped and she didn't even notice Webb stop speaking, nor the perplexed look on her CO's face.

Standing up, she turned and faced him, staring dumbfounded at those familiar blue-green eyes.

"Harm?" Her voice waffled.

"I…" was his uncertain, half-baked response.

Having lost all sense of where she was, overcome by her sudden rush of emotions, she took the few steps feeling like she was teleporting and closed her arms around his middle.

******

That name exited his mouth and he could suddenly find no more words. His eyes took in the familiar lines of her face, her pouty lips, her cheeks, her long eyelashes, as she turned and looked at him. She stood up and the next thing he knew her arms closed around him.

He'd only then realized that his lips were parted in shock, and he promptly closed his mouth. Then he put his arms around her, feeling like he'd suddenly been dropped into an alternate reality things were suddenly so surreal.

Somewhere in his mind he should have recognized that this was far different than any way he'd ever held her before, but all his thoughts were suddenly so blank.

Apparently hers were as well because she wasn't saying a word. Really she didn't need to.

It wasn't until his brother cleared his throat rather loudly that Meg jumped back from him, blushing and excusing herself.

She seemed to go right back into paying attention to Webb like nothing had happened, but Harm found he couldn't do that. He found himself staring at her, not wanting to move nearer to her because of the way her familiar smell was effecting him, making him light-headed. This all felt foreign. Very. Harm wasn't used to that feeling. He was wearing his brother's clothes, he was staring at a woman he hadn't dared thought about, and he was taking a back seat to an investigation when he was used to the front.

He folded his hands behind his back and tried to catch up to what was going on, but as soon as he focused completely on the screen, Webb was gone.

Raising an eyebrow as his brother turned around to face him, he couldn't help but be momentarily frozen at two pairs of very telling glances on him. Two people who could read him very well, standing next to each other. He forced one of those smiles onto his face. Harm had no idea what sort of dynamic he was interrupting here, but he was sure his presence was altering things here. No doubt about that.

That long silence stayed until Sean looked at Meg and said, "Carry on," before walking passed Harm and out without so much as a word.

His uncomfortable smile turned apologetic and he mouthed, "See you later," to her before following his brother back into the hallway.

*****

Sean Rabb was not as emotionally devoid as one might think he was from the experience of his rather abrupt and to-the-point personality. He knew his brother. He knew Texas. He knew something was going on there. No intentions of mentioning it unless it got in the way of his operation, he let it go. Texas would do her job and no man was going to distract her…not even his brother who had always had success with distracting the ladies. Not even with whatever shared knowledge they had of each other, so he left Harm to do as he would.

Until there was something specific to do where an extra body would be needed, his brother had no need to be involved in the minuscule details of what he did with his command or any real spot participating in it. This was more a courtesy than a necessity, and Sean was treating it as such. Brother or not.

However, he was really not expecting Harm to follow him.

"I want to have gear ready to be inspected five minutes ago," he barked at one of his men, fully aware that dealing with terrorists with access to biological agents was a serious matter. Even without a timeline they had preparation to do to make sure they were ready at the drop of a pin.

Sean walked back into his room and started opening a bag containing vials and syringes.

A normal person would have been startled by Harm saying, "I worked with her," as way of an explanation.

Sean abandoned his task and turned to face his brother.

"Worked with her?" Sean had an idea that was not really what his brother was telling him

Another uneasy smile crossed his brother's face, "You don't…" He trailed off, unsure of how to put what he wanted to know obviously. He seemed to just settled for saying, "You have been working with her for a long while now, she's good isn't she?"

Sean rolled his eyes and took in an annoyed breath, "Harm, I do not have personal relationships with people in my command if that's what you are asking. Perhaps I should be asking you what you seem to be beating around the bush asking me?"

Predictably Harm faltered a bit, unused to Sean's direct ways.

"Is this going to be a problem?" Sean asked him, the separation here between brother and duty here very obvious in his tone.

"You know better than that."

Sean raised a brow, "Do I?"

Harm frowned, "What would you like me to say, Sean? No, sir, it's not going to be a problem?"

"For starters, yes. You might not like it, but I'm the one responsible for you here, and I will have to account for and answer for your actions. If I should exclude you because of your attachments, I expect you to let me know."

Sean should have known that Harm was hardly going to sit back to him. His brother stared at him a bit incredulously, clearly not liking hearing his own brother (younger brother) talk to him like that.

Glaring back, Sean said, "I want to know now, Harm. I'm not playing. I need to make an educated decision and your 'cowboy' ways won't work here. I know you won't take yourself off, so tell me what's between you two so that I can decide for you."

*****

Harm might have anticipated his brother being very cut and dry about this, but he had not anticipated it. Nor had he ever seen his brother doing his job, so to be all of a sudden confronted with Sean in his command role, was unsettling. In a way, Harm had never stopped seeing Sean as nothing more than his little brother.

For a second he wanted to meet the demands with some resistance, some heavy resistance. His brother should be in the brig right now! However, Harm's sense of duty was clear in his mind, and he knew that this was far more important than him, his brother, Meg…He'd just have to deal with it and answer.

Sighing, Harm finally looked at Sean and said, "Nothing…we wanted there to be…I don't sleep with people in my chain of command either…She was my junior partner."

He rubbed the back of his head and continued, "We thought about it, never really talked about it outright. Then I got hit with charges on Diane's murder…By the time it was over, Meg was reassigned, and I couldn't find out where."

They had not spoken since. He could hope that things were the same. Hell, he could even think that things felt the same from Meg's greeting. He couldn't be sure though.

Then what Sean said surprised him. "Go talk to her then, find out if this is going to be a problem, because I can't have two loose links. I'd rather go short and know what to expect out of my team than get blindsided. Unanswered questions make loose links."

*****

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	11. Chapter 11: Friendships don't change

Find out. That was a notion that was unsettling for Harm. His eyes bugged at his brother for a minute. Was it that easy in Sean's mind? Go find out if that woman loves you…is still in love with you…and if you are in love with her…and if that's going to effect an operation…Didn't his brother realize these things took words and time and-.

Right, he was supposed to be leaving. Turning around, not wanting to know if his brother was going to attempt to order him away if he didn't just go, he walked back down the hallway blindly dodging men with black gear bags. His legs took him right back into the room with Meg.

Meg.

His brain nearly couldn't think that name enough now that he could put a physical presence with it. Putting on one of his smiles as she turned around and smiled at him, he gave her an uneasy sort of chuckle-like thing, "Hi…"

Smirking a bit, she raised an eyebrow at him, "Hi yourself."

Right. And Sean thought this was going to be easy? Maybe Sean just wanted to get rid of him for a good few hours, because that was more likely than a quick answer.

"Mind if I, uh, sit?"

"No, sir," she chirped, seeming to enjoy his discomfort just a bit. Then she turned back to the computer and printed off something, then sent an instant message through.

"I…never got a chance to…thank you…for-."

"Everything?" she supplied.

Giving another uneasy chuckle and another one of those smiles, he nodded, "Yeah…something like that."

"I missed you too, Commander," she said, clairvoyantly, "I wanted to see you…I mean I didn't want to leave, but I wanted to see you first. I've wanted to see you."

Heaving a sigh, Harm smiled genuinely. She always had this way of seeing right through him.

"Harm," he said. This conversation wasn't going to go smoother with her calling him 'Commander', "I'm just conveniently along for the ride because my brother and I look-."

"Like twins?" She finished, "Not in the eyes though." Then she looked away just a little bit, embarrassed by that admission.

Another uneasy laugh and Harm's heart was sent pounding through his chest. Wiping his hands on his, or rather Sean's pants, he nodded.

"Thanks for, um, bringing him back, Harm. He's--."

"Do you like him?" he interrupted, suddenly struck by the need to thank him for bringing back Sean.

Bursting out in laughter, Meg covered her mouth, "No!" Then she regained control, realizing that wasn't the most appropriate thing to burst out with in reference to her commanding officer, "I mean, not like y-that… I was going to say he's the best, like some other Rabbs I know."

Putting a hand to his chest in mock surprise, Harm replied, "You concede that I'm the best finally?"

"Well I'm not a JAG lawyer anymore, competition's gone!" She chirruped.

Smiling, Harm said, "Well I'll take what I can get…So, he's a good officer?"

Why he was asking that and changing the subject, he had no idea. It just seemed safer. Safer than heading into uncharted waters with the beautiful blonde in front of him.

"Best field operative naval intelligence has," she replied, "High stakes. Surfs the crest of every rising wave. Must be a Rabb trait, thriving on dangerous duty and gaining notice." Giving him an eyebrow, she added, "So you here to get intelligence on your younger brother?"

Squirming in his seat, Harm cocked his head to the side and looked at her honestly, "Well no."

She just looked at him expectantly.

Sucking in a breath he asked, "Why didn't you when you were in DC?"

"Look you up?" she asked, finding the bridge he was seeing between their current conversation and her response much earlier that had opened the personal part of the conversation.

Harm nodded, having a lot of his words sucked out with that last question.

*****

Those blue green eyes were so familiar, as was his soft baritone and manner of speaking. Harm and Sean sounded alike, but used different words and ways of talking a lot of the time, she'd noticed. She was hoping that he came back into the room to talk to her. To talk to her genuinely about…things. Them. Them sorts of things.

Gently, she guided him through his bush-beating. He was a master at it sometimes, unless forced to the point. Finally he asked an opening question. About time.

"I don't know," she shrugged guiltily, "By the time I was back it had been awhile. I was afraid that…I mean we were friends, Harm. I just didn't want to come back into your life and have things be different. I didn't want…it hurt a lot to leave."

She should have anticipated that he wasn't going to get it just on that alone, that he was probably looking for a way to misinterpret that to protect himself. It was sort of what he did. His usual modus operandi.

"Duty assignments don't…change friendships, Meg."

Right. Dumb men. Taking a deep breath, she put her hands on her knees and leaned forward very seriously.

"They do when new duty assignments can change a friendship into more than a friendship if both friends are single and still finishing each other's sentences." She nodded at him stately, before the corners of her mouth turned up.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained, sometimes you have to go against the grain! That was from some country song, wasn't it. Hadn't Harm heard that one?

***

Harm's mind and heart stopped altogether and at the same time. Had she just said that friendships could change if both friends were still single? As in she wanted more than a friendship?

"You didn't because you…You thought I'd be…and you didn't want to…"

She laughed, which saved him from embarrassment at his incoherence. Thankfully she was able to read his mind.

"Well are you, Harm?" she asked, looking at him calmly, eyes glimmering.

Another uneasy yet content laugh and he replied, "Seeing someone?" He paused and smiled again, shaking his head, "No."

"So you are just along for the ride, you said?"

He nodded.

"No permissions and siring?"

He shook his head, "Nope, none. Not in here, just you and me."

If his heart had stopped before, it was pounding again now as she took her hands off her knees and leaned forward further, putting them on his. Instantly he felt the heat of her starting at her hands.

Then she leaned all the way further until her lips met his, tentatively at first, pulling on his lower lip. His lips parted and he put a hand to the side of her face, making a soft unintelligible sound as the kiss deepened.


End file.
